Vapor
by gallifirey
Summary: It was never supposed to turn out this way. 'The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS, just how it should be', right? But life never had agreed with the Doctor. And it was never, ever fair. Rose/TenToo. Character Death.


**A/N: I haven't uploaded anything in forever! Anyways, here's something. We had a creative writing assignment for our English Honors class that could be anything we wanted… so of course I wrote a fanfic. This idea's been floating around in my head for a while, and it feels good to write it down. Hopefully it's passable.** **There will be two, or possibly three chapters to this, so yeah. Stay tuned?**

**I cried writing the end, just fair warning. Let me know what you think; I'm always looking for critique and ways to improve! c:**

* * *

Today marked two years since Journey's End. Two years since he had left nearly everyone he had ever known to live here, two years since his beloved TARDIS had dematerialized back to the old universe for one final time, taking everyone else with it. He would never see them again.

But he had _her_, his wonderful Rose Tyler, with him, and that was more than enough to ease the pain. And though he would have rather not admitted it, she was his world. It was only right that they were together.

She didn't want him, at first. He was only a clone, a duplicate of the real Doctor, who was so impossibly far away. And he knew it; He would never be _him_. But when she warmed up to him, it was just like the old times. Minus the adventure.

He took up the name John Noble and the two of them settled in with Jackie and Pete. When they married, they didn't bother to have a ceremony. It was a bit silly to do so anyways, as they knew no one.

They learned she was pregnant two months ago. They couldn't know the gender, not yet. It was much too early. John chuckled softly to himself. They hadn't any idea of a name. But the baby was due sometime in May, and it was almost December now.

John stared out the window, watching the freshly risen sun rays dance across the covers. He sat up in bed and eyed Rose's sleeping figure affectionately. Gently he brushed a stray bit of hair out of her face with his finger. A trace of a smile graced her lips, and brown eyes flickered open.

"Morning, John," she mumbled groggily.

"Hallo, Rose," he said with a lopsided grin.

Her eyes closed once more before she yawned and pushed herself up out of the covers. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"We're going in for another ultrasound today," she mused, "remember?"

"Oh! Right, I nearly forgot. So sorry. Well, alrighty then, better get ready!" he said, voice squeaking slightly. Of course he couldn't forget that, how could he?

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and took Rose by the hand, pulling her up. Their fingers interlocked, and she giggled, standing on her tiptoes while he planted a quick kiss on her lips.

They got dressed swiftly; they couldn't afford to be late to this appointment. John pulled on his usual converse as Rose brushed out her hair. They left the house and got into their royal-blue car together, trying not to make too much noise, as Pete and Jackie were still sleeping upstairs. It revved to life and Rose backed out of the driveway. The two were in high spirits.

She pulled into the clinic and was out of the vehicle long before him and was knocking at the office door when he stepped out. He walked up just in time to see a white-haired receptionist come out from behind the desk, unlocking and opening the door for them.

"Come in!" the receptionist said, beckoning to the couple. "And you two are...?"

"John and Rose Noble-Tyler. Here for our, ah, second ultrasound, and overall check-up."

"Right this way."

She lead them inside the building and through a short corridor, where she sat them down in a waiting area with bright yellow walls and went to get the sonographer.

Rose twiddled her fingers, staring into space. "Nervous?" John asked.

"A bit," she confessed, "Remember last time? He said something might have seemed a little off with the baby and-"

"Nah, I'm sure it isn't anything too serious. Try not to worry too much, love."

"Mm-hm."

Just then, the door to the office opened. A short man with auburn hair stepped out and beckoned them in. Rose went first, John following right behind her.

The man briefly introduced himself as Doctor Ballestra and asked Rose a few questions, and then told her to lay down on the room's mattress. He seemed to completely ignore John, who shrugged it off, un-offended. It _was_ early in the morning, after all. The sonographer instructed Rose to pull her shirt off to expose her stomach as he pulled out a container of transmission gel. He applied it quickly and before screwing the lid back on. "It tickles!" she laughed. John's eyes shone with amusement and watched as Dr. Ballestra pressed the transducer to multiple places on her abdomen, holding it down for a few seconds before moving it to the next spot. It beeped as he went, and suddenly the black-and-white picture flickered onto the screen A printer woke up and the sonographer walked over to it, waiting patiently for the papers to come out.

John's gaze flicked up to it. His eyes narrowed.

Something was wrong. Nothing was moving.

In fact, nothing was _there. _

His heart skipped a beat. He blinked; surely he was hallucinating. But it was empty, completely void of life. The baby that had been there just weeks ago had completely vanished. Rose noticed John's horrified expression and twisted her head around to stare at the screen.

"No," she cried, "No!" She immediately stood up, gasping for air. "This isn't right. This-"

The screen shut down and she sunk back onto the mattress, but her eyes were still fixed upon the blackness, as if she looked at it somehow, it would be better.

"Rose- there isn't anything we can do," John felt as empty as the picture had been. This wasn't real. It was all just a nightmare, he told himself. They would soon wake up and everything would be okay. But it wasn't. Everything was so real.

Dr. Ballestra rubbed his temples, mumbling to himself. "I'm sorry," he said, "I- I don't understand. I've never seen anything like this before."

John buried his face in his hands and felt Rose's head rest upon his shoulder. He put his arm around her in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. She cried into his chest and he stroked her hair, staring at nothing. His thoughts were muddled, he couldn't think correctly. He wouldn't cry, even if he could. He had to stay strong for Rose.

The sonographer stood up and flipped through the pictures. John watched his facial expression change to one of solemnness to one of horrified surprise.

"What is it?" John demanded. "What did you see?!"

"Something- something's there. I don't know what it is, but there's something else in the picture."

Rose looked up, a spark of hope alight in her eyes. "Is it- is the baby alive, still there, or what? _What do you see?_"

Dr. Ballestra looked up from the papers. "It isn't the baby," He said dully. John watched Rose's expression change to despair. "It's something else. I've never seen anything like it before." He brought the photos closer to his nose.

His wife sprung out of her seat and snatched a picture from him. She brought it to the seat and John craned his neck to get a better look.

Yes, something was there, all right. But it looked nothing like a baby. Something lurked in the corners, something not visible at first glance. Somehow, _something_ seemed familiar about it, but he couldn't possibly put a finger on it. Not right now, in the height of emotion.

Ballestra flipped through the papers, scanning every one of them for some hint of the cause. But nothing came.

"You'll have to schedule another appointment, somewhere else. We- we can't help you here, it's too complex," He hesitated. "I'm sorry. Truly sorry,"

John and Rose hurried out of the building. The receptionist didn't try to ask them if they forgot to pay. They walked to the car, hand in hand.

"Our baby's gone," Rose grieved. "This wasn't s'posed to happen! None of this,"

"I know, love. I know," he whispered. "And I am so, so sorry." And he was.

For the first time in his life, words had failed him. No words of assurance came to his mind. Nothing about this was right- the baby was gone, and whatever caused its death might also be a threat to Rose. So he drove in silence, and somehow that was okay. Soon they reached the house.

Jackie was the first to hear the news. She made them both soup but neither was hungry. Pete came home from work later on and the mood of the entire home plummeted.

It was midnight and he had finally scheduled an appointment, somehow getting UNIT involved along the way. The possibilities were vast, and the road ahead looked bleak. Rose had fallen asleep on his lap, so he stretched out on the couch, his hand resting against her ear, and drifted off into oblivion, temporarily forgetting the day's events.

* * *

The day of the appointment had finally come. John was waiting with Rose in the hospital sitting room. He had his phone open with one of the UNIT agents on hold. Whatever it was that caused all this might have had something they could help with.

A doctor, Steinfeld, called them in to his room. The photos had been e-mailed to him and he had them up on his laptop. "You must sit down, I insist!" the doctor pressed, motioning enthusiastically to a set of plush chairs by the wall. The whole room was extremely well-done for a examination room. John sunk into the seat and watched Rose do the same.

"Now, Rose, tell us about your past. Anything... strange?"

She couldn't help but chuckle. How on earth would she tell him just everything 'strange' she had done? He would never believe her.

"Rose, John, I know you two aren't- you're not- from _around _here,"

John cocked an eyebrow. "How did you learn about-"

Steinfeld chuckled. "I have my connections. Don't you worry; your secrets are safe with me. Start from the beginning,"

Rose, though a bit skeptical, told him of her travels. She told him of jumping between alternate dimensions and timelines, the different universes she tried to save. To their surprise, he believed her without question. It was all so relaxed, like they were discussing it over tea.

Steinfeld glanced at the pictures on his computer screen. "I honestly don't have a clue what this is. It's just some sort of... stuff. Kind of grainy, but lots of it. Could be harmless. I can connect us to Peyton Green and her team. She's an expert in this sort of thing."

John pulled the phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Dr. Steinfeld, who connected it to his computer, punched in some buttons, and pulled up a video chat. A sharp-looking woman with shiny black hair, glasses, and piercing blue eyes peered through the camera.

"Hello, Steinfeld. I see you have guests," she nodded to Rose, then John, who wiggled his fingers in greeting. "Hallo, Mrs Green

"I'll let you two take the floor," said Dr. Steinfeld, wheeling his chair out of the way and leaving the room.

Rose told her story once more and Peyton Green listened, nodding every so often. John had the feeling that she was getting more uneasy as time went on. Something was wrong but Green wouldn't say anything yet.

Half an hour had passed, Rose had finished, and Green looked solemn.

"What is it, Green?" John demanded, "What do you know? Tell us!"

"I have a suspicion," she said, fiddling with a pen. Her eyes flitted to John. "That it had something to do with her traveling through the void so often. Something messed with her physiology,"

"And that means?" he quirked an eyebrow, "The void stuff is harmless! Well, not pleasant to _travel_ through, but harmless, for the most part."

"A _few_ times, John, is harmless. But Rose? Hundreds of passes through the void is in no way safe. There's a _reason_ inter-dimensional travel is so difficult."

"I wasn't concerned about safety!" said Rose, "I was trying to save all of reality, thanks!"

Peyton watched the gears of John's brain click into place and his expression change."The void stuff- you overdose- oh no, no, no... It's the start, isn't it?"

"The start of _what_? Doct- _John_, tell me!" Rose said, desperation in her voice.

Suddenly Green's screen flashed once and went dark. She had left.

"Well, awfully nice of her to cut us off," Rose huffed. John was looking at her with an expression of disbelief. "Well, John, you seemed to know what she was talking about, so why don't you tell me?"

He found himself looking at her, eyes grave.

"Oh, Rose Tyler, I am so sorry. You didn't deserve this, _we _didn't deserve this."

"John? Please, tell me," her voice was softer, but strong as ever.

He couldn't. No, _no_**_, _**this wasn't fair.

"When you- you traveled all those dimensions, searching for the right one...well, it was too much for your body to handle. The void stuff is going to overload your system, and it's too late. Irreparable. It's catching up, now, Rose. The stuff that killed the baby-"

"Oh, God," she whispered, "I'm going to die,"

"Yeah," his voice cracked.

He reached over the chair and wrapped her in a hug. Questions raced through his mind at a million miles per hour. Why, why, _why_? She was all he had to live for, the one thing he had left after everything was taken away from him. Now even her days were numbered and he would be left abandoned. Left to rot in desolation.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Rose. So sorry," He apologized, over and over. As if that would make it any better.

"H-How long do I have?" her voice quivered.

"Months, at the most,"

"Can we go home?"

"You want to tell your mum?"

"Let's- no, not yet,"

John took her hand and guided her out of the room. They walked out of the building unnoticed. He stepped into the car and reached over open the door for Rose.

"I'm not sick yet. I can open the door myself," she proved her point by pulling it open with a strong arm.

"Sorry,"

He put the key in the ignition, twisting it halfheartedly. They drove home in silence for a second time, though it was so much worse, now. John tried to keep his mind off the future, but every tangent of thought eventually lead back to _her_, his universe. He had TARDIS, no way of running from it all. She was his lifeline. The single thing he cared about was being severed bit by bit, and he didn't think he would be able to hold on.

He knew it would pass by so much quicker than it should; it always did.

_Better a short life together than none at all. _

When they reached the house, no one was there. A note from Rose's parents stated they were out on a date and would be back around midnight.

Neither of them bothered to get ready for bed. They only pulled off their shoes and fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Rose started showing symptoms the day they started decorating for Christmas. The first time she fell off the stepladder, she brushed it off as nothing, getting right back on to hang a particularly pink ornament. John tried to forget about it. _You're just being paranoid. It can't possibly be happening this soon, _he attempted to reassure himself.

But then she fell a second time and couldn't get back up. He rushed to her side, naturally, and set her on the couch while fighting back the tears.

Maybe this was their last moment together, John thought. He held her hand, promising her all sorts of things, paying little attention to the words coming from his mouth. He rambled on. She was asleep within minutes, her breathing so shallow that John feared for her life.

Rose woke to him kneeling by the couch beside her, stroking her hair almost possessively. She tapped his arm and smiled weakly. He jumped and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey. I've got life in me yet,"

* * *

Rose's sense of balance was ruined by Christmas Day. She couldn't walk anywhere without help, and it was just now that John noticed how thin she was. Her once full face was bony and sallow. She flinched at every touch, skin over-sensitive to everything. They couldn't kiss anymore. Rose told him it felt like burning fire. Agonizing, she said. So he refrained, but it killed him inside.

She could hug, though. Just barely.

He could feel their time slipping through his fingers. Her life was as a vapor. A fragile spiderweb in hurricane winds- where just the tiniest touch posed a threat. He couldn't take it for granted.

Their last Christmas wasn't anything extravagant. Just a TV dinner together, sitting beside each other listening to one of Pete's cheesy Christmas CD's like every year. John tried to enjoy it, but a nagging voice kept hissing, _You'll never experience this again. You know it, you can feel it. She has weeks. Weeks! And then you'll be alone again, alone like when you destroyed your own planet! But this time, there'll be no one to escape to. _He shoved that voice into the dark corner of his mind where it belonged, turning to Rose for comfort.

* * *

It was the day before New Years when John awoke to awful retching noises coming from the bathroom. Startled, he raced towards the sound and flung the door open. His stomach sunk.

Rose was sprawled unconscious on the floor, her neck twisted at an awkward angle. A mixture of blood and vomit was in the toilet and covering her mouth. He wiped her blood-stained lips with his sleeves. Slowly, he lifted her up to carry her to the bed as gently as he could. Her frailness frightened him.

Her eyes fluttered open. They shone with the life she always had. But something else was there. The kind of resignation he had seen too many times in his life. Acceptance of the end.

She flinched at his touch, her muscles tensing. He stroked her head. "Shh, Rose, it's alright. It's me. It's okay,"

"Doctor?" she mumbled.

He nearly smiled. "Nah. It's me. John, remember?"

"You... oh," He saw the flash of recognition in her eyes before she was reduced to a coughing fit.

"Shh, it's alright. It's going to be okay," He tried lying to her, though she knew already.

"I'm dying," her voice was hoarse, but he didn't need to struggle hearing it. He knew her voice like his own.

"Yeah," his voice squeaked. He couldn't hold the tears back any longer.

"Can you promise me something, before I...?" Rose trailed off.

John nodded. A teardrop rolled down his cheek and dripped onto her neck. She winces.

"Don't be alone. You... You gotta find yourself someone. I know how you'll get,"

He replied, "Of course," but he knew in his heart he couldn't keep that promise.

"And do just one thing, John. Have a good life. Do that for me. Have a _fantastic_ life," she smiled, and the memories came rushing back. Memories of running, running for their lives, exploring time and space. The Doctor and his Rose, just how it should be. Should have been.

He cradled her head in his arms, relishing every second. Suddenly her pulse faltered before going completely. Their time was up.

"You can let go now, Rose. It's okay. You go home now,"

It was as if he was speaking to thin air. That tiny vapor of life was gone, and his world gone with it.


End file.
